


The Crimes of Hattie Potter

by M_yh_m



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Comatose Lily and James Potter, Dark Harry Potter, Dead Alice and Frank Longbottom, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Horcruxes, Neville Longbottom is a Horcruxes, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parselmouth Neville Longbottom, severtius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_yh_m/pseuds/M_yh_m
Summary: At the age of 22, Hattie Potter is one of the most well known and hated Death Eaters. Known for her harsh war crimes and with rumors of being Lady Voldemort, Hattie is to be sentenced first shortly after the end of the Second Wizarding War. Though she shocks the crowd when she confesses guilty. The only condition? Simple to tell her crimes to the courtroom right then and there. After all, her journey starts at the beginning all with a simple letter, and there should be no problem telling such a tale.But the lingering question remains on some minds, is she telling the truth?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	The Crimes of Hattie Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... IDK man not like I don't have another work that I'm already working on.
> 
> This is unbeta-ed

_November 2002_

Neville pushed his way in front of the crowd, hard as it was as people kept pulling at his robes, wanting autographs or maybe to prevent him from going into the courtroom. But he wouldn’t be deterred, not even Hermione and Ron had been able to convince him in not coming. He had to. They didn’t understand, but bless them they had tried. The couple didn’t come of course, Hermione and Ron's relationship with Hattie having been tense, and non-existent in the last few years.

Maybe also a small part of them hadn’t been able to forgive Hattie. Not that he could blame them, just as he couldn’t blame Hattie. Though someone had to be on her side. Even now. After everything. 

Managing to push his way to the front he was dismayed to find that there were no places to sit. If outside of the courtroom was crowded that this was ridiculous. There were people sitting two in a chair in some places, and in others, there were people just standing in the aisles. Even more people were pushing their way into the courtroom. It also didn't seem to help with overcrowding with the large circle in the middle, which a single chair sat. It sat there ominously, with multiple magic dampers on it. Neville forced himself to look away from it.

Many trials had been postponed, mainly to make sure that witches and wizards were properly healed and evidence carefully gathered - Kingsley didn't want another Sirius Black case regardless of the outcry of the public… though there was one case he couldn't push back - people were too thirsty for some form of blood, and that was in the form of Hattie Potter. There were those who were under house arrest waiting for their trial and those whose crimes were far more serious that were locked away in Azkaban.

"Neville!" 

Neville turned and saw the bright red head of Percy Weasley. He hadn't shaved recently and a tired air was about him. Neville hurried to his side. Percy motioned the empty seat that he had secured on his right side.

"Ron told me about your crazy idea." Percy said.

"It's not crazy. She's innocent." Neville said, some frustration slipping through. 

Percy leveled him with a look that made Neville feel like a first-year in Hogwarts again. "She's not innocent. Even if by some miracle she's found innocent, she won't be able to truly live her life. She'll never be found innocent in the court of the public and you know it." 

Neville looked away from Percy. He didn't want to admit that Percy was right but he knew she was innocent of the crimes they said she commited. 

A loud banging noise sounded silencing the courtroom. Kingsley sat there looking older than ever, "Silence please." Once everyone had become silent, Kingsley nodded to a guard and….

There she was, as tall and thin as she had been on the battlefield. She looked a bit more tired and favored her right side. She was tightly wrapped in a straight jacket, and still somehow managed to walk tall and proud. All in all, Hattie Potter took Neville's breath away.

It was probably that that caused the crowds to begin shouting. Most of it Neville couldn't make out or understand, but one thing rang clear from a few seats behind him, _"Dark Lord whore!"_ He turned around trying to find the person who shouted it but there were too many people. He wanted to say something, to shout at the people around him but Percy had a tight grip on his wrist.

"Silence." Much like Dumbledore, Kingsley had mastered the art of making people listen to him without ever raising his voice. The room once again fell silent, but with an edge of danger. 

Hattie sat down on the chair, turning a bit and giving a small smirk of amusement to the onlookers, as if this all was some sort of joke to her. Even Neville couldn’t fight back the feeling of anger at her for it. That feeling faded when they locked eyes, Hattie’s green eyes held a hint of sadness in them, and softened just a bit when their eyes met. Neville gave her a soft smile back, and she turned away from him quickly.

The crowd was on edge, and Kingsley seemed it important to move it along. Quickly, before the crowd decided to get the blood themselves. 

“Hattie Potter, today you stand on trial being accused of being a Death Eater and having married He-Who-Must-not-be-named. Your reported war crimes-"

"Minister Shacklebolt, I'm sure we all know what I'm standing on trial for." Hattie said, cutting into what Kingsley was about to say. There was of course amusement coloring her voice. "And I'll gladly proclaim myself as guilty." 

It was only deathly silent in the courtroom for a moment before screams and cries filled the room. Even Kingsley seemed taken aback. Neville wanted to go down and shake her, maybe beat some sense into her. It took more than a few bangs and cries from Kingsley for the crowd to be silent before everyone became quiet.

"Do you understand what you're saying?" Kingsley said, disbelief heavy in his voice.

"Of course, I'm not an idiot minister. All I ask is simply a chance to tell all about my crimes." Hattie said. 

The onlookers began whispering, crimes? They all knew her crimes, the most telling was the very dark mark that now marred her left arm. There would be no point in her telling anything. Yet there was an air of wanting to know.

Kingsley was silent for a moment before slowly nodding. There may have been something they had missed. "Very well."

* * *

_July 1991_

Hattie Potter sat miserable and forgotten in the tiny cupboard which she was happy to call her room. It had been a day or two since anyone had come to bother her. She was unjustly being punished - well she hoped she was using that word correctly. _Unjustly_ was a word she'd heard on the tele, some crime show Dudley had taken to watching lately. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon of course had no idea their son was watching it, after all they believed it to be too graphic for their precious son. Hattie had laughed at that, and hadn't been able to keep in mentioning that he was more like a whale than a human. Dudley had unfortunately been standing close enough and had ratted Hattie out. 

Now she was going to spend the rest of summer here. It seemed the Dursleys were looking for any excuse to lock her up, after the unfortunate events that had happened at the zoo during Dudley's birthday. And she'd tried telling Uncle Vernon that she hadn't known how the glass disappeared, and that it just _did_. Of course Uncle Vernon didn't believe her. They never did.

Not like it was unusual, Hattie was used to people not believing her, especially her aunt and uncle. The incident was nothing new, but some part of her burned with anger at not being believed once again. If only they could see and understand that she wasn’t lying. 

Her musings were interrupted by the sharp, rapid knocks of her Aunt on the cupboard door. “Up girl!” Aunt Petunia said.

Hattie eagerly pushed the door open and followed her Aunt to the kitchen, her legs aching from being in the cramped cupboard. She was ordered to finish the bacon as usual. There was a harsh smell in the kitchen and it seemed Aunt Petunia had taken to standing over a large bowl filled with something. Whatever it was it stunk worse than that time someone in the neighborhood had ran over a stray raccoon. 

“What are you doing?” Hattie said. Really she knew questions were banned in the household - or more specifically - her questions were banned.

Seemingly without turning, Aunt Petunia whacked her on the bum with the wet wooden spoon she had been using to stir the concoction. “No questions.” She said. 

Hattie sulked and rubbed where she’d been hit. 

“It's your new school uniform.” Aunt Petunia said, her lips drawn tight. 

Hattie’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I didn’t realize uniforms had to be so wet.”

“Are you normally this stupid?” snapped Aunt Petunia. “Of course not! I’m dying some of Dudley’s old clothes, no need to waste money on a new uniform.” 

Being called stupid always rubbed Hattie the wrong way, she wasn’t stupid. It was just hard for her to understand things sometimes, the words seemed to have a mind of their own when she read. Hattie of course had tried telling someone this, but no one believed her. They’d all laughed and in the case of the Dursley’s she was told to stop lying. 

“Oh.” Hattie had finished the bacon, and it turned her stomach as it meshed horribly with the scent of dyeing clothing. She went next to work on the eggs, her appetite lost. 

Dudley came in then followed by his gang, Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon. They were all as fat and stupid like Dudley, and followed Dudley’s orders without question. Hattie suddenly felt uneasy as Piers’ beady eyes fell onto her. She really didn’t have anywhere to escape to as she was still cooking the eggs. Hattie couldn’t believe that she’d forgotten that Dudley’s gang had stayed the night, more to go watch some sort of midnight showing to a movie. Hattie of course hadn’t been allowed to go, and Vernon had been the one to take the boys. 

Piers came closer, cornering her by the stove. “Hello Hattie.” His breath stank as he clearly didn’t brush his teeth yet. He reached out and pinched her thigh, just shy of her bum. His actions were hidden by how large he was.

Hattie tensed up, wanting to do something, but couldn’t really do anything. Dudley and the rest of the boys wouldn’t interfere and may join in. Hattie realised she was overcooking the eggs, but yet wouldn’t take them off the burner, as it would mean being more pinned against the stove. 

Piers reached out again, though this time as he almost touched her, he yelped and stumbled away. 

Aunt Petunia rounded onto Hattie. “Hattie!” She snapped. 

“I-I didn’t do anything!” She cried out. 

The gang of boys took to laughing at Piers, and his face became an unsightly red in embarrassment.

“You’re burning the eggs!” 

Hattie’s face turned red, and she awkwardly got the eggs off the stove, made more challenging by Piers refusing to get too far from her. She couldn't understand his deal. 

Aunt Petunia banished her away from the kitchen, and Hattie eagerly made her escape outside. She took to hiding in a bush, small enough to slip underneath it from how small she was. No one would notice her, not unless they were at the right angle to do so. Suddenly, Hattie wished she had been forgotten in her cupboard once again. 

Breakfast continued without a hitch it seemed and soon the boys were piling out of the house in search of her. After all, their favorite game was Hattie Hunting, and she really didn't want a repeat of the last time they caught her, where'd her upper thighs and chest had been crudely pinched until she'd had finger shaped bruises. The attack had her feeling vulnerable and in pain for days afterwards, Hattie made it her goal not to be caught again after that. She held her breath as they rushed past, hoping that they wouldn’t notice her. As they passed, Hattie took notice of how Dudley and Piers held their Smelting sticks, no doubt they were going to hit her with it. 

After a few more minutes, of which Hattie watched the mailman come up and deliver the mail, she deemed it safe enough to leave her hiding spot. Brushing off the leaves and dirt that manage to cling to her, Hattie entered the house, and swooped down collecting the mail. 

There wasn’t a lot of mail, a postcard from Marge and brown envelope that was most likely a bill. The third letter though caught her attention. An envelope made out of yellowish parchment, and the most interesting part, what was 

written in emerald-green ink.

_Miss H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

For a second Hattie was confused. A letter for her? She didn’t have any friends or relatives besides the Dursleys. She didn’t move from the spot, should she open it? Maybe it was a joke by Dudley. He has always been cruel to her.

She turned it over and took in the purple wax seal bearing a lion, a badger, a raven and a snake surrounding a large proud H. This couldn’t have been the work of Dudley or his gang. They were too stupid and unimaginative to come up with something like that.

Something also told her that there was something unnatural about it. Should she open it? That was the question. If she did, and it didn’t turn out to be some joke, could she handle it? Or could she handle it if it was a joke.

Hattie stuffed the letter in her pocket, maybe she’d look at it later. Probably not sometime being out in the open where Dudley could ambush her. She went into the kitchen and delivered the mail to Uncle Vernon before sitting down and eating what little left there was of breakfast.

She had seemingly forgotten about the letter, up until she was in the bathroom for her five minutes of getting ready for sleep. It fell out of her pocket and laid innocently on the ground. Hattie eyed it for a moment, there had been no sign from Dudley that he was waiting on anything, so it clearly wasn't him.

Tentatively she picked it back up and hurried back to the cupboard. Hattie only had to wait a moment before her Aunt came and locked the door. She continued to listen to the sounds of the Dursley’s going to bed, Dudley trying to convince his parents to let him stay up later only to be shot down. Even after they had gone to bed, she waited. For what Hattie couldn’t say, but she still had her teeth clenched as she pulled the letter out from under her pillow where she had stashed it after her bathroom break.

The parchment felt warm in her hands, and made a soft crackling sound as she slowly turned it over to open it. The wax seal broke easily, and she saw that the letter was made from the same parchment that the envelope was made from. 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Questions ran through Hattie’s head. What? A school for…. Witches and Wizards? This had to be some sort of joke, though who would play it didn’t make any sense. The Dursleys were firmly anti anything unusual or unnatural. It was why they didn’t like Hattie, she was unusual. From her wild untamable black hair to her knobby knees. Everything about her was unusual in Dursley terms. 

But that would make sense…. She supposed, if she was a witch, that would explain the unusualness that followed her. 

She spent hours reading the letter. By morning she could recite the whole thing. Her eyes burned from not sleeping, and she couldn’t stop yawning. Hattie knew she’d have to confront her Aunt about it, not while Uncle Vernon or Dudley were around. She didn’t particularly care to have bruises come morning time.

When Aunt Petunia had come and unlocked the cupboard, Hattie had already slipped on her day wear, the old baggy clothing that Dudley used to own, they always had a way of making her look smaller and thinner than she already was.

After a quick run to the bathroom, Hattie began doing her normal day to day things. This time though, as Uncle Vernon left for work, and Dudley lumbered off to play with his gang, Hattie stayed behind. The letter sat in her pocket, heavy in a way, and her hands trembled when she carried the dishes to the sink. 

“What do you want, girl?” Aunt Petunia asked, her voice heavy with disdain.

It was now or never Hattie supposed. If she didn’t bring out the letter she would have to suffer through going to Stonewall, and the abuse the Dursleys hurled at her day to day. Shakily, she reached into her pocket under the hard gaze of Aunt Petunia. 

The letter had barely left her pocket before Aunt Petunia was paling, and a flicker of fear appeared in her eyes. Aunt Petunia snached it from her. 

“Wh-where did you get this?” Her voice was shaky in a way that Hattie had never heard. 

“Yesterday's mail.” Hattie said.

The following crack was loud and made Hattie’s ears ring. She lifted a hand and cradled her cheek, already she could tell that a bruise would be forming. Tears gathered in her eyes. 

“You ungrateful little girl.” Snapped Aunt Petunia. Her face was still pale and her eyes were wild.

“So it is true.” Hattie said. She turned and glared up at Aunt Petunia. “You’ve known, or suspected.” Her voice held an accusation, something she wasn’t fully sure of but was gaining a picture of. 

“I will not have one of these freaks in my household.” The parchment crumpled in her hands. Aunt Petunia shook it in Hattie’s face. “Vernon and I have done all we can to break that freakiness from you. And you dare to be so ungrateful?”

“UNGRATEFUL?” Hattie shouted, her voice shrill like. “What do I have to be grateful for?” 

Her hands shook and faintly she was aware of the dishes and cabinets shaking slightly. 

Dudley chose that time to reappear, and took one look at his mother. “Mum?”

Aunt Petunia sharply turned to him. “Go get your Smeltings stick Dudley.” The parchment was still tightly clutched in her hands.

Dudley did so gleefully, not understanding anything but that Hattie was in trouble. Fear pooled in Hattie’s stomach and she tried to make an escape but didn’t get far before Aunt Petunia’s bony fingers tangled into her hair. Dudley stomped back downstairs proudly holding the Smelting stick. The knobby stick looked far more fearsome in Aunt Petunia’s hands than in Dudley’s. 

“Please Aunt Petunia.” Hattie didn’t know what exactly she thought that begging would do, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rarely ever raised their hands to Hattie as if they didn’t want to touch her. And they certainly never used anything else to hit her with, rather turning their gaze away or possibly encouraging Dudley to hit her instead.

The Smelting stick whizzed through the air, and in her struggles to get away had let the stick hit her in the leg. She let out a loud cry and Aunt Petunia let her fall to the floor. A large angry looking bruise was already forming on her leg, and it burned too much for her to move. Aunt Petunia raised the stick again, looking like a wild beast. 

Hattie curled up and distinctly heard the sound of glassware breaking. The next hit landed on her wrist which she raised just up in time to cover her ear. Her glasses had fallen off her face at some point, and the hits just kept coming. She lost count of the number of hits, but knew that when it was over, she hurt. Hurt all over, and could barely take in any breaths.

“Dudley,” she hadn’t been aware that Dudley was still there. “Take this _thing_ back to the cupboard.”

The very disgust that fell from her aunt's voice somehow hurt worse than the beating. 

Dudley eagerly did what his mother said, his movements harsh and cruel as he dragged her back to the cupboard. He pushed Hattie in there, and laughing locked the cupboard. Not that Hattie could go anywhere, she hurt too much to move. 

She couldn’t even get the will to curl up and lay how she’d fallen. Blinking her eyes, she couldn’t even tell if she was crying anymore. 

Hattie was left alone in the cupboard for days, eventually she had gained the nerve to move and cried out at every movement. She found some of her clothes and tore them apart making misshapen bandages. Her left eye had been hit at one point, and the vision from that eye was worse than it had ever been with dark spots forming. 

She could tell nothing was broken, but that didn’t take away from the welts or where the Smelting stick had broken her skin. Her main concern would have to be the infection that could possibly settle in. She did what she could.

Hattie was surprised when the door opened and Uncle Vernon stood there. He didn't try to squeeze himself into the cupboard, and gruffly said. "Pack your things, you're moving into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" She asked, suspension in her voice.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Vernon barked, he backed himself out of the tiny door way and left it open.

It took Hattie a moment as she had to move around with pain. It thankfully took her only one trip to get all her things up there. The room was filled with broken and abandoned things, even the bed was broken, something that Dudley once used before he became too fat and heavy for it. The desk sat under the window and had the drawers missing.

Her small box of things sat on the desk waiting to be unpacked. The bed squeaked in protest when she sat on it, and springs dug into her.

Why had she been moved? Her thoughts turned back to the envelope that had been addressed to the cupboard, maybe the Dursleys were afraid that someone was watching them.

She was again left on her own but this time she was able to easily sneak into the bathroom and sneak some water. Moving had become slowly easier and her wrist didn't hurt when she moved it but the black spots remained.

Two days after being left alone, Hattie was called down into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sat at the kitchen table with the Smelting stick laying on it. She awkwardly sat down aware of the last time she came into contact with it. 

Laying in front of her was a piece of lined paper, with a simple black ballpen next to it, all somehow more ominous than the Smelting stick. Her mind flew back to the words  _ We await your owl _ , they wanted a confirmation that Hattie even wanted to go clearly. In her panic she didn’t notice the small stack of parchment envelopes. But the second she did, she knew she couldn’t do what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wanted her to do. Someone, even if it was a school, wanted her. 

“Now this is how it's going to go, you're writing them a letter that you don’t wish to go, and we’ll have them back off. We won't have any freak like that living here.” Uncle Vernon said. His voice was too even and calm. “And on top of that, you get to keep the room, some new clothes. If you do this you will properly become a part of the family.”

Hattie looked at her uncle in disbelief. Could it all be true? All that she wanted, to fully become part of the Dursley family, to be properly spoiled like Dudley. Some part of her wanted that regardless of the school that wanted her. But…

“I have some questions.” Hattie said. Better not ask, and just state she had them. Maybe they’d answer them. “And I’d like it if you answer truthfully.”

Uncle Vernon’s face started becoming red, and Aunt Petunia’s lips thinned.

“Go ahead.” Uncle Vernon strained to say the words.

“Were my mum and dad a witch and wizard too?” 

Aunt Petunia looked like she swallowed a lemon. “Yes. Your mother was one, but I was not. She met your father through school…. And then got themselves… attacked, leaving you here with us.”

Hattie glared at her aunt, well as well as one could glare with one visible eye. “What do you mean attacked? You said they were dead! Killed in a car accident.” She hissed out. 

Aunt Petunia glared right back, looking like she wanted to strike Hattie again. “I know what I said. And I don’t know, just that you were left here and that they would never be able to take care of you again. Brain-dead I suppose.”

Hattie felt like her world had tilted slightly, how could they lie to her like that. For years. But she couldn’t concentrate on that, not now, not how much it tore her up. 

“One final one. What makes you think it would end with this?” She asked. “I can’t control the things I do, now what do you expect that since I know I’ll be able to stop it?” 

“You should be able to. Repress it somehow. Now write the letter. It's what's best for everyone involved.” Uncle Vernon held out the pen to her. 

“No.” Hattie decided.

“What?” Her aunt asked in a shrill voice.

“No. I want to go. I want to know all about myself. You know I wont be able to stop. It will probably get worse. Or I’ll search out the knowledge myself.” She said, not truly knowing what she was saying. But she had to make her point quickly as Uncle Vernon’s meaty hand had wrapped around the Smelting stick, it looked far more fearsome in his hands that Aunt Petunia's. “Wouldn’t it better that I learn from a school, and be held accountable rather than go searching it out for myself. Because I will. I will look for any and everything regarding magic even if you make me write the letter.”

No one moved in the kitchen for a while after that.


End file.
